


It Happened One Night

by lauraayates



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: 1x09 The Last Ride of Bonnie & Clyde, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 19:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraayates/pseuds/lauraayates
Summary: Here it comes. He’s going to tell her that kissing her was a huge mistake, and should never happen again. It’ll hurt to hear, but it’s not a surprise. She went into this with her eyes wide open. She braces herself for the blow. Only the blow doesn’t come. He tells her that while he’s not over the death of his wife and  a part of him will always love her, he can’t grieve forever. “Maybe it’s time I stop looking at the past, start looking at the future. Maybe explore some of those possibilities you mentioned.” // Post 1x09. Lucy sprained her ankle in 1934, Wyatt helps her out back in the present.





	It Happened One Night

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for being gone for so long. I apologise for not updating I'll Show You the Way - and for leaving it the way I did - in so long. I have no real excuse, but I promise that's the next update you'll get!
> 
> Thankyou to angellwings for helping me out with this fic! I love you more than coffee in the morning ;)

“How’s the ankle?” Wyatt nods his head to the leg Lucy has propped up on the bench. He grabs the dress draped beside her and hands both of their costumes to a passing attendant, while she focuses on slipping her sneaker over her foot without jarring her ankle. 

She pauses in her actions to send him a soft smile and a shrug. “Just a sprain. I’ll live.”

“Maybe so, but will you be okay to drive home?” He raises his eyebrows at her. He’s driven with a sprained ankle himself, it’s not something he’d recommend.

She’d been planning on doing just that, but the look on his face tells her he isn’t going to let her. Lucy falters a moment, choosing her next words carefully. “I uh… I…” Why is her brain failing her now!? Her phone buzzes beside her and she snatches it up. It’s just an app update, but the app flashing on the screen gives her an idea. 

“I ordered an Uber.” She says with confidence.

He doesn’t buy it. Damnit.

“Uh huh.” He nods slowly. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

The car he directs her to comes as no surprise. A Mustang is the exact car she expected him to drive - a darker colour maybe, navy or black she would have guessed - but the silver suits him well. It’s not as tidy as she expected it to be though. She’s seen the inside of his locker after returning from a mission. His clothes neatly folded and placed carefully on the shelf, with his boots lined up neatly in the bottom. A stark contrast to her own locker, where she’s just carelessly thrown everything in. In her defence though, the dresses she is required to wear - especially those pre 1910 - don’t leave her much time to carefully fold everything, before she has to jump in the lifeboat and Rufus is piloting them through time and space. There are a few jumpers and spare t-shirts strewn on the back seat, and she thinks she can see a couple pairs of boots in the foot well. There’s a takeaway cup from Starbucks in one of the holders between the front seats, along with a crumpled up piece of paper stuffed in the other. The remains of his breakfast she assumes. She raises her eyebrows at the mess, and then up at him.

“What?” He says defensively.

Lucy shakes her head. “No, nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” They both slide into the car. Wyatt doesn’t start the engine like she expects him to, instead he turns and stares at her. “What’s wrong with my car?”

“It’s just not as tidy as I expected it to be. That’s all.” She shrugs. 

He raises his eyebrows at her. “Why? What did you expect?”

Lucy drops her head back and and closes her eyes, wishing she’d never said anything now. “I’ve seen the inside of your locker and how you are on missions. Everything all neat and tidy. I just expected the same of your car.”

He doesn’t say any more, just sits there and looks at her. She’s not quite sure what he’s looking for, but the longer he stares, the more uncomfortable she gets. She shifts under his gaze. “Are we just going to sit here, or am I uncancelling that Uber?”

Wyatt laughs and shakes his head, before he turns and switches the engine on. “That was an app update, and we both know it.” He says as he puts the car in drive and speeds away.

* * *

 

Lucy doesn’t know how Wyatt knows her address. She didn’t tell him and he didn’t ask. She’s not sure she wants to know how or why he knows it, but he pulls up in front of the right house regardless. There’s an awkward pause as he switches the engine off and she removes her seatbelt. Wyatt wants to stick around, to keep her company for a while - he can’t see any sign of her mother being home - Lucy wants him to do just that, but neither of them are willing to admit as much out loud.

She takes a deep breath and turns to him. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.” He shrugs. “Ma’am.”

Lucy shakes her head, exasperated. “I thought I told you not to call me that?”

“What would you rather I call you then, babydoll?” 

The nickname resurfaces feelings she’d pushed down back in 1934. What she wouldn’t give for him to call her that seriously, and not teasing her. Though she knows he won’t ever. As long as time travel exists, he’s going to do everything he can to get his wife back. She has no idea the same thought is currently running through his own mind. 

She gathers her things from the floor. The door is open and she has one foot out of the vehicle, when she turns back to him. “You in a rush to get home, sweetheart? My mom’s out late tonight, so I wouldn’t say no to some company.” Two can play at that game, though her question comes out far more flirtatious than she intends it to.

He regards her for a moment. He shouldn’t. Spending time with her outside of work is likely to bring up feelings he’s tried so hard to push down and repress. Feelings he shouldn’t be feeling, because there’s still a chance he can get Jessica back. He accepts the invitation anyway. He can’t say no to her, especially with the tone in her voice. 

Pulling the keys from the ignition, he exits the car and follows her up the path. The awkwardness between them returns when they enter the house. Wyatt follows Lucy as she hobbles her way through to the kitchen. A part of him wants to reach out to her, to wrap his arm around her waist and help her. Though there’s a part of him screaming at him not to, that that would be inappropriate, that friends don’t wrap their arms around their friends waist. And thats what they are, right? Friends. But friends don’t let friends struggle when they’re clearly in pain and need help. So he steps forward, catches her around the waist, and pulls her weight off her sprained ankle.

She brings her hand up to grip his shoulder, steadying herself. “Thanks.” She mutters.

Wyatt deposits her on the sofa, before bending down to carefully pull her sneakers off her feet. He pushes them under the coffee table out of the way - he knows how clumsy she can be, he doesn’t want her spraining the other ankle - before he toes off his own boots, and slides them under next to hers. “You have any ice? Or some frozen veg or something I can put on this ankle? Keep the swelling down?”

Lucy attempts to rise at his question, supposedly heading to the freezer to grab something herself, but he doesn’t let her get very far before he’s pushing down on her shoulders and back onto the sofa. “Stay. You need to keep your weight off this ankle.”

She frowns at his command. “I didn’t realise I’d turned into a dog.”

He crowds into her space at her comment, his face inching closer and closer to hers. She’s not sure what he’s doing, or why. A part of her hopes he’s going in for another kiss, but surely he’d have already done that by now if it was going to happen again. Right? 

The playful “woof.” he lets out is the last thing she expects and has her bursting out with laughter, her face lighting up. She’s never seen this side of Wyatt Logan. She rather likes it. 

Wyatt joins her in laughter as he makes his way over to the freezer.

“Will you grab me some wine while you’re there, please?” She flashes pleading eyes at him over the top of the sofa. “There should be an open bottle in the fridge, and glasses in the cupboard to the right of you.”

He nods his acquiescence to her, but when he returns, it’s not a glass of wine and bag of frozen veg he brings with him, but rather a bottle of water and a bag of frozen veg. She frowns up at him, wincing slightly when he places the frozen veg on her swelling ankle. “That’s not wine.”

“Astute observation, professor.” He smirks up at her, holding out the water. She’s reluctant to take it. “But I’ve had plenty of sprained ankles myself, and I know the painkillers they give you. You can’t drink with them.”

She goes to protest, but the look he gives her has her stopping before she’s even started. He sits beside her and takes a moment, taking her in, before he starts to shift nervously. “Besides, uh…”

His eyes flick down to where his hands are rubbing together slowly, his elbows resting on his knees. 

“Besides, what?” Lucy smiles at him softly.

Wyatt takes a deep breath, as he tucks one leg up beneath him and turns to face her. “Something happened on the mission today. Something I think we need to talk about with clear minds.”

She’s not quite sure what he’s referring to, not until she notices his eyes trained on her lips. Oh. “You mean…”

“I kissed you.” He exclaims.

“Yeah…” She nods slowly, not quite sure where he’s going with this. Does he regret it? Does he wish he’d never done it? She daren’t hope it’s the opposite. She can’t allow her hopes to rise like that, only for them to fall flat when he tells her it shouldn’t have happened.

“I…” What he wants to say, he knows won’t be easy for her to hear. It’s something he needs to say though. For both of their sakes. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Oh.” It’s not what she would have liked him to have said, but she understands. It hurts, but she understands. “No, yeah, I get it. We had to sell it or they would have-”

“-Yeah. Just playing a role.” A part of him hoped she would fight him on this. That she would tell him it wasn’t just a role, tell him it meant something to her… Tell him that she wanted to explore the possibilities with him. But it’s not who she is, and he loves who she is.

Neither know quite what to say now. Okay, they both know what they want to say, but neither have the courage to come out and say it, so they simply sit and stare. The ping of Lucy’s phone from inside her bag, breaks the spell. She can’t quite reach it where it sits on the coffee table - not without jolting her ankle, which she’s really trying not to do, after the pain she experienced when putting her shoes on back at Mason Industries. Without a word, Wyatt reaches forward and grabs it for her, pulling out her phone. 

He doesn’t mean to catch a glimpse of the text she’s just received, but it’s not his fault her phone lights up when pulls it out of her bag, and it’s not his fault that she has her message previews set to always show, rather than to just show when unlocked. When he sees Noah is the sender, he pauses. Of course the guy pops up now. He doesn’t give Lucy chance to read the messages herself, before he’s flinging the phone onto the coffee table, muttering “Fuck it.”, and surging forward to catch her lips with his.

A million thoughts swim through her mind - make that a million and one - as his lips crash with hers. She stays frozen, not quite sure what to do. She wants nothing more than to melt into him, to wrap her arms around his neck and run her fingers through his hair. But only moments ago was he telling her that kissing her in 1934 was a mistake, that it shouldn’t have happened. His tongue running along the seam of her lips, begging for entrance, has her making her mind up. She opens to him, only allowing herself to melt when his tongue finds hers. 

With any other guy, she’d be fighting him for dominance right now, asserting her independence. But Wyatt isn’t any other guy, and she is quite happy to sit back and let him devour her. He does just that. She brings her arms up to wrap around his neck, her fingers inching up into his hair, as he rises onto his knees and pushes her back to lay across the sofa. 

Neither hear the car pulling up outside, nor the second car. Neither hear the click of heels on the concrete, or the voices growing louder and louder as they greet each other with surprise. Neither hear the key turning in the lock, or the footsteps approaching them.

It’s like a bucket of iced water is poured over them, as Carol and Noah step into the room. They tear themselves apart, Wyatt shooting up off the sofa and standing before Lucy’s mother and Fiancé. He’s stood tall and straight, his hands clasped behind his back. Looking at him, you’d think he was stood before his commanding officer back at Pendleton. This is arguably worse.

“Mom. Noah.” Lucy attempts to stand, but stops and holds her hands up in surrender when Wyatt turns to glare at her. The flirtatious smile she sends him as well is probably a mistake considering their current company.

“Lucy?” The hurt in Noah’s voice has her flinching. “I don’t…” 

She wants to say something to make things better, to calm him down. But there are no words that are the truth, that she can say to fix things. None that won’t hurt him anyway.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I came here to apologise for our date the other night, and you’re here fucking some other guy like, some kind of slut?”

Wyatt’s gaze flicks to Noah, his eyes narrowing. “I’d choose your next words carefully if I were you.”

Noah takes no notice of Wyatt as he steps forward and around Wyatt, hovering over Lucy. “How many other guys have you fucked since we got engaged, huh?”

Wyatt turns to see Lucy cowering in the corner of the sofa, the same corner he’d just been pressing her into with his body. He reaches out and grips Noah’s arm, tugging him away from her. “Okay, that’s enough.” 

Noah shrugs Wyatt off of him, stepping back and heading towards the front door. He stops by the kitchen island, and turns back to him. “You’re welcome to the little whore.”

Carol’s cry of “Okay, that’s enough!” comes seconds before Wyatt marches forward and grips the front of Noah’s shirt. He knows he shouldn’t. He knows Lucy wouldn’t want him to - it’s not exactly the best first impression for her mother either - but he can’t help it. He can’t let anyone talk about her like that. Wyatt doesn’t give Noah time to react, to defend himself, before he’s bringing his arm up and sending his closed fist flying straight at Noah’s face.

Lucy winces, though she’s not sure if it was from the pain that shot up her leg when she rises from the sofa and stands on her sprained ankle, or from the sickening crunch of Noah’s nose breaking. She hobbles forward and lays a hand on Wyatt’s arm. “Wyatt. Stop, please.”

He turns, his eyes full of regret. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I’m so sorry.”

She brings her hand up to the back of his neck and pulls his head down to rest her forehead against his. “It’s okay.” She closes her eyes and breathes deep. “Go get a fresh bag of frozen veg for your hand, while I deal with Noah.”

She doesn’t give him the time to protest, as she reaches up on her tip toes and presses a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. She’s likely rubbing salt into Noah’s wound, but she can’t bring herself to care. It’s the least he deserves after the way he just spoke to her.

Wyatt’s stopped from opening the freezer, by a hand resting on the door. He turns his head to see Carol stood by him with a frown on her face. 

“You will do no such thing.” She scowls. “I don’t know who you are, or how you know my daughter, but I want you out of my house.”

Carol opens the freezer and pulls out the bag of veg Wyatt had intended to grab himself, instead moving over to pass it to Noah. Not that a frozen bag of veg will do much for a broken nose.

“Mom!” Lucy exclaims. “Wyatt is more than welcome here, you can’t send him away because he hit someone who talked to me like that. Noah’s lucky I was here to stop him going further!”

“It’s okay, Luce.” He smiles softly, turning to leave. “I’ll, uh... I’ll see you at work?”

Lucy turns back to her mother. She’s had enough of this. Her entire life has been decided by her mother. But not any more. She’s a grown woman, she can make her own decisions. “If Wyatt isn’t welcome here, then neither am I.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy.” Carol scoffs.

Lucy grabs her bag and her shoes, not bothering to try slip them on. She ignores her mother calling to her, limping as quick as she can down the hall and out the door. She calls out to Wyatt, just as he slips into his car. 

“Lucy, what are you doing? Go back inside.” He gets back out of the car, heading towards her to help her back inside.

“No.” She shakes her head vigorously. “She’s taking his side, Wyatt. I can’t stay there, with him, after what he said to me. If you hadn’t have punched him, I would have.”

He smirks at her. “Good job I got in there first then, isn’t it?”

Lucy steps forward and rests her hands on his chest, smiling up at him. “My hero.”

“Come on.” He nods his head back at the car, as he brings his hands up to squeeze at her waist. “Let’s get you some ice on that ankle.”

She brings his bruising hand, up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the split knuckles. “And on this hand of yours.”

* * *

 

Wyatt lives further away from her than she thought. The same distance as her from Mason industries, she would guess, but in the opposite direction. Knowing this, has her wondering why he would offer her a lift home if he’s going so far out of his way. 

“It’s not much, just the bare bones while I’m actually here and not shipped off somewhere.” He brings his hand up to scratch behind his ear in embarrassment, as they ascend the stairs to his floor. 

He’d offered to carry her up the stairs, when they arrived and found the elevator out of order. She swatted his shoulder and told him not to be so ridiculous, that her ankle may be sprained but she’s still perfectly capable of making her way up a few flights of stairs. 

She shrugs. He could live in an abandoned warehouse, and it would still be more welcoming than the house she has called home for so long. She tells him as much and he just laughs lightly and slightly awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. 

Unlocking the door, he steps inside and toes his shoes off, shuffling them to the side and lining them up against the wall, next to where a few other pairs already sit. Lucy follows his lead and puts her sneakers down beside his boots - she never bothered to slip them on on the ride over here. She takes a moment to take in the domesticity of it all. Her shoes lined up beside his, her bag now hanging on a hook amongst his coats. She wants this. She sighs and follows him through to the kitchen. 

“No veg, but I do have a little ice.” He pulls a tray out of the freezer and shows her the three blocks. “Not enough for both of us though.” 

She turns and starts hunting for a clean tea towel to wrap the ice in. Wyatt watches her open a few cupboards and draws for a moment, before he squeezes past her and opens the only draw she hadn’t and pulls one out. 

“Here.” He holds the ice out to her, but she refuses to take it.

“No.” She shakes her head, no. “I had the veg back at my place, before we were rudely interrupted. You take the ice for your hand.”

She can see he wants to argue, so she pulls out her best ‘I’m the professor, so what I say goes’ look - one she normally reserves for the more stubborn students in her classes, but one she can see herself using often on him the future. He sighs at the look, pressing the ice to his bruised hand with a wince. 

“You want a drink?” He offers.

She gives him a doubtful look. “I suppose alcohol is still off the table?”

“What do you think?” He says, as he grabs two bottles of water from the fridge.

Wyatt drops his empty hand to rest on the small of her back as he leads her through to the living room. They drop onto the couch together, Lucy wincing as the movement jostles her ankle. She really has to stop doing that.

“Okay, no more moving for you tonight.” He raises his eyebrows at her, when he sees her go to protest. “Christopher will have my head if I bring you in tomorrow in a worse state than the one you left in. Rufus probably would too.”

“Guess I’m spending the night on the sofa then.” She settles further into the cushions. Not the most comfortable place she’s ever spent the night, but it’ll have to do if he won’t let her move. At least it’ll be more comfortable than two fully grown adults sharing a single bed. Not that she’s complaining about being pressed so close to Wyatt in nothing but her underwear.

“Some host you are.” She teases.

They sit in companionable silence for some time, their bottles of water sit untouched on the coffee table. They should probably talk about…. Everything, before the phone rings and they’re back in that giant metal eyeball once more. Lucy hates that thing. A glance to the figure slouched beside her, has her admitting that she doesn’t hate it as much as she claims to. She wouldn’t have met Wyatt, if it wasn’t for Connor Mason inventing the damn thing. 

Wyatt reaches out and grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers without a word. He rolls his head to the side, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

She meets his gaze and matches his smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He whispers in return.

“We should…” Lucy tightens her grip on his hand, anchoring him to her. He’s not going anywhere. Physically or emotionally.

“Talk.” He nods. “Yeah.” He sighs. “When I lost Jess, I lost myself. The only time I was sober, was when I was on a mission. Losing her destroyed me, and if I’m being honest, I can’t say I’m completely over it.”

Here it comes. He’s going to tell her that kissing her - both times - was a huge mistake, and should never happen again. It’ll hurt to hear, but it’s not a surprise. She went into this with her eyes wide open. He told her about Jess during their first mission. She could see in his actions and hear in his tone as he spoke about her, how much he loved her - still does love her. She braces herself for the blow. Only the blow doesn’t come. He tells her that while he’s not over the death of his wife - not yet, but hopefully one day - and that while a part of him will always love her, he can’t grieve forever. “Maybe it’s time I stop looking at the past, start looking at the future. Maybe explore some of those possibilities you mentioned.”

She sits and stares at him for a moment, letting his words sink in. “Possibilities of what?”

“I think you know, babydoll.” He smirks.

“I think you should show me.” She returns his smirk. “Sweetheart.”

He surges forward and catches her lips with his, much like he did before. Only this time she doesn’t freeze. This time she is quick to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer, she’s quick to lay back on the sofa and pull him down with her. She slides her leg beneath him and lets him settle against her, the pressure of him against her, there, adding fuel to the already roaring fire. She’s lost in his kiss, his touch, his everything, when his bruised hand and split knuckles run across her cheek, his fingers burying themselves in her hair. She breaks away from him, panting deeply. His forehead comes down to rest against hers. He matches her breath for breath.

She hates to say this, while they’re in this position. She hates to be the one to dump the bucket of ice water over them this time. But there’s another elephant in the room that needs addressing before this can go any further. “Noah.”

The utterance of her Fiancé- ex-Fiancé’s name has him reeling back. “What?”

“Sorry.” She sighs. “I should probably have said something more than his name.”

Wyatt crawls back, lifting his weight off of her. Once he’s settled, he holds his hand out to help her up, and pulls her to settle against him. “Yeah, you should have, but we should talk about him and what happened tonight as well.”

Lucy starts by telling him about her past relationships. About the one guy in high school she dated for about a week, before she found out that he was sleeping with about half the school. About the drummer in her band that she had a casual thing with. About Jonas and how he used their relationship to direct her career down the path he wanted it go - she didn’t realise he was doing that at the time, but now she doesn’t know how she was so blind. Or how her mother let him get away with it. “When we got back from the Hindenburg and I found out I was engaged to some guy I didn’t even know, a part of me was relieved. There was this guy that loved me with everything he had, he knew everything about me - my messy past, my controlling mother, everything - but despite all he knew, he still wanted to marry me. He was the perfect guy, and though I didn’t return his feelings, I thought ‘why not give it a go?’. I tried to see in him what the other me saw in him, I tried to love him like he loved me. I thought it was working. I thought I was falling for him, hard.”

She feels Wyatt take a deep, steadying breath. She imagines hearing her talk about Noah in this way, isn’t the easiest for him - much like hearing him talk about his love for Jess, isn’t the easiest for her to hear - but this needs to be said. The air needs to be clear between them before they jump in. Together. She pulls away from his embrace, needing to make eye contact for what she’s about to say. “It wasn’t him I was falling for, though… It was you.” 

Neither are ready to say _those_ words yet, though the looks in their eyes - both pairs shining with unshed tears - paint a thousand words.

Wyatt falls back and lays against the arm of the sofa. His eyes dancing across every part of her, draw her in. She crawls towards him and settles between the back of the sofa and him, her head resting on his chest, her legs twining with his.

He wraps his arms around her, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’ll never stop falling for you.”

* * *

 

Wyatt blinks his eyes open several hours later. The sky outside has turned dark, and the room cold. He brings his arm up to check his watch for the time: just after midnight. He should probably move them to his bedroom. He’s spent many nights sleeping on this sofa, and the pain he always wakes with the next morning, is not something he’d ever wish for Lucy to experience. She’s still curled into his side, still dead to the world, and hang on... Is that drool on his shirt? Oh, he’s so going to tease her about that in the morning. 

“Luce.” He whispers, as he runs his fingers through her hair. She shows no sign of beginning to stir, so he runs a finger down the bridge of her nose and then back and forth across her cheek. He tries calling her name again, a little louder this time. “Lucy.”

She groans and settles further into him. He laughs softly and makes a mental note: Lucy Preston is not a morning person. “Come on, sleepy head. Let’s get you to bed.”

Wyatt slides off the sofa, shaking his head at her when he turns and finds her settling back into the sofa cushions. She doesn’t protest when he moves to pick her up this time.

He deposits her on the bed with a “Don’t go crawling under those sheets. You need to take your pills and I have some clothes for you to change into.”

She mumbles something under her breath. He doesn’t hear what, but the glare she cracks her eyes open to send him, tells him he probably doesn’t want to know. He’s never laughed so much in his life, but he finds himself doing so once more. She’s cute when she’s sleepy and slightly annoyed. He pulls out a clean t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers for her to change into. He presses a soft kiss to her lips, as he presses the clothes into her hands and points her to the bathroom. “I’ll grab you some water for those pills.”

“So bossy.” She mumbles, when she stands and leaves the room. He hears her this time. 

He’s tucked under the covers, looking at his phone when she returns. Her eyes are only half open and he’s not quite sure how she’s not fallen over something or bumped into something in this state. Maybe being exhausted makes her more co-ordinated? If so, he should see about making her exhausted for their missions through time. It’d make looking out for her a little easier on him, if he doesn’t have to worry about her tripping over thin air.

Lucy shuffles over to the bed, climbing in beside him. She goes to burrow down in the covers when he stops her with one word. “Pills.”

She turns and looks at him, pausing for a moment. “I thought I was the bossy know-it-all?”

“I’m just trying to look after you.” He says, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

* * *

 

Lucy is wide awake when he wakes the next morning. He blinks his eyes open to see her sat up in the bed, staring at the wall in front of her. It doesn’t immediately register what she’s looking at, not until he glances up himself and sees Jessica’s picture staring back at him. He sits up and tucks himself behind her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.”

She turns and frowns at him. “Why not?”

He doesn’t have a straight answer for her. Jess was a huge part of his life and the reason he is who he is today. He knows Lucy understands that. But it just feels... wrong for her to see it.

“You know you can talk to me about her, right?” She offers. “Anytime. About anything.”

He remains silent, staring. 

“Wyatt?” She prompts. 

He nods slowly, the movement causing his head to brush the side of hers. “Yeah. I know.”

Moments later, Lucy finds herself turning in his embrace and offering to help him find out who killed her. She doesn’t quite know what prompted her to do it. She doesn’t quite know how much help she can really be to him and the case. She’s no detective. But she is a historian, and this happened in the past. It’s really her area of expertise… right? Is there really a difference between looking into the events of 100 years ago, and the events of 5 years ago?

“You’re amazing.” He whispers against her skin.

* * *

 

Neither are sure how much time has passed. Neither care. With no phone calls from Agent Christopher or Mason Industries, it’s not like they have anywhere else to be. They had sat for a few minutes, staring at the articles, and maps, and pictures littering the wall opposite his bed, before he laid back and pulled her down with him.

They’re exchanging lazy kisses, when the ringing of Lucy’s phone drifts through from the living room. They groan collectively. So much for a lazy day in bed. Would it kill Flynn to give them a day or two? Just once.

Only when Lucy answers the call, Agent Christopher isn’t informing her that the mothership has jumped. She’s asking her to dinner tonight. It’s an odd request. One she’s not sure she should accept. The last time her boss had asked her to dinner, he’d broken up with her. But she wasn’t dating Agent Christopher. She asks the homeland security agent to hang on just one second while she checks her diary, buying her thetime to ask Wyatt what the hell she should do. He places his hands on her shoulders, and tells her to take a deep breath, to calm down. It’s just dinner. She repeats the 3 words to herself, as she brings the phone back up to her ear and says “I’d love to!” in an overly cheery tone.

She’s no calmer when she hangs up the phone, turning to Wyatt with wide eyes. “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to be fired?”

Wyatt scoffs and pulls her into his embrace. “You’re not about to be fired.”

“But what if I am.” She pulls back in a panic. “I can’t turn away from this now. I can’t let Flynn decimate history.”

“Then we steal the lifeboat and we finish it ourselves.” He shrugs, as if they could steal the lifeboat, as easy as she could steal a kiss from him. He’d certainly make it look easy.

They stand wrapped around each other, before she mumbles. “I should go home.” into his chest.

“You should stay here.” He replies, tightening his hold on her. After the way Noah and her mother treated her last night, he’d rather she not go anywhere near that house. But he knows thats not an option. He sighs, nodding slowly. “You want me to come with you?”

Lucy shakes her head, no, and reluctantly pulls away from him. Facing her mother, and possibly Noah, is something she needs to do by herself. Besides, she can’t spend the rest of her life cowering behind Wyatt. No matter how much he’d love that. 


End file.
